Breaking the Block: Exercises in Prompt Fiction
by dcurley1
Summary: Drabble series based on prompts and inspired by evieeden's The Prompt Sessions. No hard and fast rules, just writing exercises to help me get past a nasty case of writers block. Primarily AU but who knows where the stories will take us. Chapter ratings will be mixed but the overall rating is a big, fat M to stay on the safe side.
1. Moves like Jagger

**Timeline: Well, I've kind of blown that out of the water. Levine's smexy photo-shoot was done in 2011 (Google these pic's—for realz…I just looked again…le sigh…) and Bella was changed in 2006—and she's human in this fic. Meh, I don't think it's a big enough deal to change anything.**

**Rating: M for language…and socks….**

**Not beta'd because it's a drabble…and I wanted to post stress-free….and because it's a drabble…**

**Prompt: Adam Levine, Cosmo UK photo-shoot**

**Title: Moves like Jagger**

"_In other entertainment news, Adam Levine, front man for Maroon 5 and coach for the hit reality show, The Voice, took it all off for a Cosmo UK photo-shoot. These racy photos are for a new promotion advocating early detection of prostate and testicular cancer." _

"Oh my," Esme whispered.

"I know, right! He is _so_ hot." Alice giggled.

"Do you think he's wearing one of those sock things to cover his junk," Emmett asked excitedly, waggling his eyebrows and leering at Bella. "Or do you think he's free-ballin' behind that model's hands?"

"Sock things?" She asked, red-faced and confused.

"I remember when Elvis was considered vulgar." Edward interrupted, saving Bella—and everyone else—from a rather uncomfortable explanation. "He was picketed, his albums were burned, and despite his popularity, Ed Sullivan refused to let him perform in his show. Well, initially he refused, he eventually relented.

Parents and churches were in an uproar and screamed that he was corrupting morality and encouraging juvenile delinquency. And why? Because he swung and gyrated his hips when he performed. They called him an animal and a demon for moving his body. This was only in 1956! Which really wasn't too long ago. In my day—"

"In my day," Emmett parroted in a warbled and feeble voice. "Dude, that was like 60 years ago. Back in my day? What's next, Edward? Do you need to go clean your dentures? Go get your early-bird special dinner right after noon? Senior citizens discounts? Orthopedic shoes? Damn, man." Emmett rolled his eyes and turned back to Bella with a dangerous glint in his eye.

"Now Bella, lemme tell you all about cock socks..."


	2. I Burn

Prompt: Firewood

Inspiration: I Burn by The Toadies. You'll find direct lyrics and hints to the song throughout this dark little ditty.

Timeframe: Twilight… if things had gone differently in the dance studio. Decidedly darker.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer.

Rating: M

**I Burn**

It's in the air I breathe.

The soot of our history, the pain of my past.

I breathe it all in, never to escape me. Him, them, the others, my past, my present. It smolders within me. It burns.

_I_ burn.

I've piled every bit of firewood that whoever had owned this cabin chopped many years ago, on to the flames. It needed to burn hotter. Burn brighter. Burn _cleaner_. It needed to burn it all. Every memory, every nightmare, every scar. Every ghost, every specter that haunts my mind and my heart. Everything. I needed it all to burn away, maybe even me if that's what it took.

Maybe that is what it would take.

I'm no different from the kindling snapping and popping, searing and smoldering atop their flaming pyre.

Dry.

Empty.

Brittle.

Combustible.

Ignitable.

Maybe, just maybe, I can find atonement for my sins. For whatever malevolence I must have committed to deserve this fate, this life, this existence. I could burn and be purified. I could be absolved.

I could finally be free.

"No, Bella." A man whispers behind me. "No, sweet girl. This isn't the way. Stop, Bella. Just come to me, come with me. Let me, let us, care for you."

"I know you don't remember," the strange, yet oddly familiar, man continues. His voice soothes me. It calls to me. It scares me. "But I remember you. You were just a child to this world when they took you." He says softly, slowly coming closer and closer still.

"You were just a girl. Innocent, beautiful, brave. So good and pure. You still are, Bella. Intrepid and enchanting. You have been wronged and sinned upon, but you are still that guileless babe in the woods. Come with me, Bella. Come home, my child."

I could feel his arms slowly wrap around my shoulders, pulling me to him, whispering low sweet things. Calming me, soothing me.

Scaring me.

Igniting and smothering the flames.

Tethering himself to me, he pulled us away from the pyre of my sires. Their very tooth, bone, and shared spirit drifting upward. Filling me. Releasing me. The burning proof of my sins and scars.

But this man, he kept whispering lovely notions in my ears. Things about love. And good. And comfort. And home.

"Home," he says, slowly tilting my chin, making me look. Freezing the inferno, the holocaust within me.

"Carlisle," I sob, collapsing into the home of his arms. "Carlisle."

And I weep.

And I am carried.

And I don't let go.

And I need.

And I love.

And I burn.


	3. White Wedding

Prompt: A picture of a white, medieval-esque gown. I'd link it here, but whenever I try to do that it just fails. Lame. So, I might put a blog, or something, together where I can post the photo prompts. Meh, we'll see.

Timeframe: Post New Moon AU

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer.

Rating: T

A/N: My lady love duskri123 is in this ship with me. Check out her side of the prompts (_Shots of Life_) and really all of her stories. While you're at it, take a look into the wild-side that is juliangelus' _Tiger Stripes_. She patiently supplies our prompts and doesn't snap when we say "gimme!". She's pretty awesome like that, my Boo.

**White Wedding**

It hadn't taken him very long. Well, I suppose five years is long for some, but not for our kind. For us, it's akin to the blink of an eye. Not that I expected him to mourn our love or my loss. I wanted him to move on. I wanted him to be happy.

But the fact that it seemed so easy for him to move on, to love, hurt. It hurt so much.

That is was so easy to cast me aside...again. That is was so easy to let me go…again.

Granted, I didn't know that. I didn't _actually_ knowthat it had been easy for him, easy for them. I didn't really _know _that, but that's how it seemed sometimes. And sometimes what is logical is pushed to the wayside where what is emotion is concerned.

So no, I didn't know what it had been like for him, or them. I didn't know the details of their lives or their thoughts or their dreams, regrets, and feelings. How could I? I'd had no contact with the Cullens since Edward and Alice left Volterra.

But this, this I heard about. I don't think anyone _hadn't_ heard about it.

As I quietly moved about the castle and travelled on my assigned 'duties', I picked up little details here and there. I planned and I begged for permission to attend and swore that I would be a good girl. I promised to behave, to take care of myself, and not to allow anyone to know that I was there. My sire. He didn't want me to go; he worried for me, for my fragile heart. But I needed too. I needed to see it. I didn't understand _why_, only that I _had _to be there.

And now I'm here. Hidden in the trees, tucked away in a perch in the lush Alaskan wilderness that is the Denali National Park and Preserve. Expanding and tightening my shields around me so that not even my scent will escape—not that they would know what I smelled like any longer, but I couldn't, wouldn't risk anything.

I don't know why I'm here. I don't know what I expect to find, or how on earth this will help me. But I _needed _to be here. Some instinct, some unknown force...I don't know who or what or why, but I _had _to be here. So I came.

And I watch and listen.

And I ache.

I watch the large, ornate affair play out in front of me. It's themed, renaissance I think. There are beautiful, colorful masks and large, hooped, satin gowns with plunging necklines and embellished corsets. There are breeches, stockings, velvet doublets, and I think I see nobleman court boots. I can't quite see _that_ far away, but Marcus owns a pair—they're beautiful and ornate.

I watch them exchange their vows and kiss and caress and love and just _bask_ in each other. I don't think I've ever been held like that, revered and cherished like that. I don't know why denied himself for so long, or even how he denied himself really, but I know that if I was blessed enough to find a love like that, there is nothing I wouldn't do to keep it. I'd cherish it and praise all of the Gods and deities for gifting it to me. And I'd guard it, fiercely, savagely like some starved junkyard dog.

I watch as family and friends wish them well and heap them with blessings. Emmett twirls Rosalie, crimson skirts and long, blonde, perfectly curled hair fans around them. It's beautiful really, not just the grace in which they move and touch, but it's more the love and passion that Emmett and Rosalie have for one another that is so beautiful. So special and sacred.

I'm dying inside. I want to run, I want to flee, I want someone to drag me away. But I can't, I'm rooted, transfixed.

And I see him, really and truly see him, my once and only love. She caresses and strokes him and glows under his care. Her full and ornate, white silk gown billows around her, and I can't but wonder if I'm the only person there that finds it just a little ironic that a 1,000 year old succubus is wearing _white_ to her wedding.

They dance and sway and he holds her so closely. And it hurts, it hurt so much, it hurts so badly, and I'm screaming inside.

I watch, frozen in my morbid fascination, as he kisses her. Softly, sweetly. Passionately. I can tell by the tilt of his head and the movement of his jaw that he's opening his mouth and the kiss becomes deeper, more erotic.

I've never been kissed that way.

And I realize that I never will.

Not if I stay here.

Not if I don't move.

Not if I don't set myself free.


	4. The Stars at Night

Prompt: A picture of a sunset. It's beautiful really. I don't have a link, but I'm going to work on posting it somewhere. I'll let you know. Oh, I know—JULES! Grand Giver of the Prompts, where can I post this pic?

Timeframe: Pre-Twilight

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer.

Rating: T

A/N: Thank you for all the reads, reviews, and alerts. I'll be perfectly honest, I'm not so sure about this one. I don't know if I like it or not; however, the point of this challenge is to write something everyday…and as my lady-love reminded me, it doesn't have to be good, it just has to be something. So, here is my something. Ta-da!

**The Stars at Night**

They ran. As fast and as hard as they could push their immortal bodies, they ran. They ran from the past, they ran from the demon that sired them. They ran from the pain and agony that was their existence. But more importantly, they ran to escape the brutal torment _she_ would inflict should they be caught.

Jasper couldn't remember much from his human life and what he could remember from this damned existence, which was every aching and brutal detail, he'd much rather forget. But though his human memories were faint, smudged, and scattered, he was fairly certain he hadn't ever been outside of the southwest. As they fled farther and farther away, he was overcome by the newness of it all.

Everything he saw was _so _different. Every breathe, every taste and smell in the air was so new and curious and awe-inspiring. And terrifying. But no matter how badly he wanted to stop, to explore, to taste and feel everything new and beautiful thing around him, he kept running.

They journeyed through the drought-inflicted plains and across raging rivers and ominous, craggy mountaintops. And snow! For the first time in any of their lives, they saw snow. Charlotte was mesmerized and desperately wanted to stop and touch it, taste it even. But they had to push forward, they had to keep moving until they knew they were safe. They'd see snow again, Peter promised her, and he meant it too. Once they were safe from that malevolent, revolting demon that was their maker, they would all see snow again. Even if he had to kill the bitch himself. They would live free for now on and if it came down to it, well, he'd rather die trying than be subjugated to that heinousness again.

They kept moving. Bypassing civilization and villages, stopping for nothing even though they were all sorely tempted. Even their thirsts were fed at a manic speed, quenched without a moment to spare and quickly moving on. The fear of capture and bondage—for their existence thus far could be described as nothing short of satanic enslavement…an existence they promised themselves they would never be subjected to again—dominated any other need or desire they might have felt.

Finally, one night they slowed down. And then many nights later, they stopped. They had no clue where they were or how far they had travelled. But they knew they were safe. They could feel it down to their bones and could smell it in the clean, night air. They were gone, she was gone, and they were _free_.

Peter treated Charlotte to the snow he had promised her and Jasper leaned against a tree and settled himself into the ground. For the first time in what seemed like eons, or at least very many lifetimes, he allowed his mind and body, and was hoping for even his soul, to rest. Jasper slowly breathed in the crisp, cold air and peered up at the night sky. It was different from what he knew. Texas was starry, broad, and clear. This sky, this sky was different. It was purple and pink swirls against black and navy backdrops. The brightest and biggest stars he had ever seen. And the trees, they were everywhere—blocking and enhancing the night. It was bold and formidable. It was the most beautiful thing Jasper had ever seen.

And for the very first time, Jasper felt at peace. The coil of angst, terror, and savage responsibility that was his constant companion and burden, loosened. He didn't know if it would ever absolve, and as his past was marked upon his soul and his mind, and even tattooed and imprinted upon his very flesh, he didn't think he'd ever be completely free of it.

But this night, this beautiful night underneath these free stars, he didn't care. He buried himself underneath the heaping piles of snow surrounding him and let it go. He cleared his mind and couldn't help the glee that flowed through his body or the laughter that escaped him. As he shook himself out of the snow, he heard the giggles and chuckles of his friends, his saviors really and knew that no matter what was to come, this was all worth it. Even if the peace and joy was only for that very night, that one moment in time, it was all so very worth it.

Overjoyed by it all, he did something he'd never done before.

Jasper loved…and Jasper played.


	5. It's Not Paranoia!

_Prompt: Paranoid_

_Timeframe: Pre-Twilight_

_Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer._

_Rating: K_

_A/N: Thank you for all the reads, reviews, and alerts!_

* * *

_**It's Not Paranoia!**_

Charlie Swan had always considered himself a rational man. He did his best to make most of his decisions based upon logic, on facts and not emotions. He wasn't always successful, but he tried and most of the time he succeeded. He was an even-tempered and quiet man and he was okay with that.

But now everything was different and he didn't know what to do about it. It seemed he couldn't help himself because no matter how hard he tried to rein his emotions in, it always backfired and overwhelmed him. And although his rational brain whispered to him every once in a while that he might need some help, he didn't really care and he didn't think it was too much—hell, he was far too aware that nothing would ever, _ever_ be enough…

Though his town was small and unassuming, he knew the dangers of the world better than most. And in this case, he saw them everywhere. And when he was alone….Lord help him…he would catch himself crying over the smallest things. Terrified that everything he had done wasn't enough and when that was combined with his ever present anxiety…well, it was a recipe for a mess.

But he couldn't help it and although he was seriously reconsidering his sanity, he _knew _it was all worth it. And if anyone had any problem with it, well, that was their problem. This was his job. This was the most important thing that he had ever, or would ever, do—so how could he not be hyper vigilant about it?

He knew they talked about him. He knew they laughed, at first, and chalked it all up to nerves or this "being his first". Quite frankly, he didn't give a damn what they said about him and honestly thought that maybe things might be a little better in the world if everyone approached this the same way he did.

So what if he got rid of everything he could that had a hard edge in the house and then cushioned every piece of furniture or anything else with an edge? They were a hazard. Bella could fall, you know, when she began walking that is, and hurt herself. She could blind herself. She could fall and hit her head and cause some sort of brain damage and then she'd be in the hospital and they'd be investigated by child services and she could end up having to use a walker or fall into a vegetative state or it could traumatize her and cause some sort of PTSD and she'd never walk and wouldn't have a fulfilling life and then…well, and then he would have failed her. So what if he wanted to protect her from the hard and threatening surfaces of the world? His Bella was so soft and not near done growing, she could be hurt so easily—too easily.

So what that he stacked pillows around her for a soft barrier and to stop her from rolling off the bed or the couch? So what if he was then _concerned_ that she'd roll over and suffocate? He's her father; it's his job to be concerned.

So what if he drove at least 15 under the speed limit when she was in the car? So what if he brought home an infant safety hat and insisted that everyone wash their hands before they touch her? So what if he purchased a portable GPS device for her onesie's and diaper bag? She could be _kidnapped_ for Christ's sake! It would help them find her.

So what if he brought home a choke tube tester? It's simple to use and will help them prevent choking. Isn't this what he should be doing? Protecting her and making her safe, that was his _job_.

And don't even get him started on the chemicals in food and cleaners and detergents and carpet and paint and plastic—it's in everything and it could make her sick.

So what if he _occasionally_ goes into the nursery while she's sleeping and wakes her up? She's a very quiet child, when she's screaming at least he knows she is alive.

His friends could make fun of him all they want, even though he admitted to being baffled by it at times. They had children of their own; they know how dangerous everything is. Nonetheless, they tease and rag him all the time.

They tell him he's paranoid.

They say he needs to relax.

They shake their heads and murmur under their breath about "first time parents".

But Charlie Swan knows better.

He knows he's not paranoid—he is just proactive.


	6. Legend in the Mirror

_Prompt from the Great Giver of Prompts, Jules: "__Objects in mirror are closer than they appear"_

_Timeframe: New Moon AU_

_Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer._

_Rating: I'm giving this baby a M, not for explicit content but more for what it implies._

_A/N: Thank you for all the reads, reviews, and alerts! Mucho thanks to my dearest darling, duskri123-she's fab and encourages me…and sometimes she evens suggests a few things because she rocks like that. I flove her…le sigh…Now, on with the show:_

**Legend in the Mirror**

She pushed her worn out, old truck as hard as she could. Keeping the pedal flushed to the floorboard, she begged it to move faster and not to die or run out of gas anytime soon. At least not until Jake or another member of the pack could intercept her. If she could just go a little faster…_please…_

Bella glanced at her rear-view mirror and could no longer see the flaming red hair of her would-be executioner. She prayed that she had somehow found a way to safety, but she knew better than that. Forcing her way through the paralyzing fear that threatened to overtake her, she glanced in the side-view mirrors to make sure she didn't see Victoria anywhere else.

Both relieved and distressed by Victoria's disappearance, she caught sight of a faded warning on the mirror.

_Objects in mirror are closer than they appear_

Too late, she caught site of the huntress and both heard and felt the sickening twist of metal and rubber. Her body folded, broken and bleeding, as her truck was crunched and thrown into the air. She couldn't help but laugh darkly to herself, thinking of the irony of her finale…_closer than they appear indeed…_


	7. Devil in the House of the Rising Sun

_Prompt by Juliangelus: Charlie Daniel's "The Devil Went Down to Georgia"_

_Rating: T (But that's only because the title alludes to brothels otherwise it would totally be a K)._

_Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer._

_A/N: Thank you for all the reads, reviews, and alerts! This little story that could is exactly 100 words which is SO much harder than I thought it would be. Hats off to all those who enter the 100 word drabble contests like The Twilight 25—holy crap is it a struggle. Anyhoo, here we go with my 100 words…_

* * *

**Devil in the House of the Rising Sun**

Jasper was intrigued. Bella never failed to surprise him that was for sure.

When she snuck him the note, he knew something was up but nothing like this.

Bella. Doe-eyed, sweet Bella.

A cunning devil in disguise.

Emmett wouldn't see it coming. Her plan was flawless.

"He won't play with Alice or Edward." She said. "Carlisle and Esme will be gone so when you ask me to be your partner, he won't be suspicious. He'll think of it as a sure win. He'll be confident. Lazy."

"And that's when we go in for the kill."

The devil in disguise indeed.


	8. Stay

_Prompt by Juliangelus: Stop light_

_Rating: T _

_Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer._

_A/N: Thank you all so much for all of your support, it means a lot to me. I'm having fun with this and can feel my confidence coming back, so hopefully I'll have something for Alter Bound and Preternatural Alliance very soon. :)_

* * *

_**Stay**_

It wasn't supposed to end like this. Edward knew better than to believe that a happily ever after entailed a fairy-tale ending, he knew there would be ups and downs, but he didn't think it would all end so soon. He didn't think that everything would blow up, leaving him standing in a rubble filled battleground alone and uncertain. He never thought he could have pushed his mate, his wife, to run…to abandon him, abandon _them_. He loved her so much, he loved her beyond words and meaning, he loved her too much to have let this happen. Beyond that, Bella was a fighter. She fought for their love as a human and after her change. It was who she was, _what_ she was, down to the very venom and flesh and bone that made her. That he had riddled her so full of doubt that she fled, that she lost her will to fight, tormented him. If that was torment, knowing that no matter how deep and consuming his love was, _is_, for her, that he had failed to protect her enough, support her enough, show her how much he adored and respected her, was agony.

As he raced along the highway, weaving in and out of traffic, desperate to make it in time to stop her getting on the flight Alice had foreseen her boarding, he thought of everything that had brought them here. He clawed through his memories, trying to pin point where exactly it had all gone wrong. Desperate to know what he did, or didn't, do to cause this. Desperate to figure it all out because if he could do that, he could fix it. He could change whatever needed to be changed. He would do anything for her, anything. He just had to find a way to make her know that.

On that thought, Edward realized that their problems—as individuals, as mates, as a family—couldn't be pinpointed to one, singular incident. No, instead her faith in them had been worn down throughout the years because of many things. Small slights here and big fights there led to this, this disaster.

Bella struggled immensely throughout her newborn years and had succumbed to her bloodlust numerous times—and she hated herself a little more after every 'slip'. Edward had tried to be there for her, tried to comfort and reassure her but she shied away every time, creating more and more distance between them. Jasper tried explaining it to him she was erecting all of these walls between them, though it wasn't just him, she was creating walls and spaces between herself and everyone in their family with the exception of Jasper. Jasper had tried and tried to explain and counsel, but Edward didn't pay enough attention, thinking that their relationship would repair itself. They were mates, they loved each other, of course it would fix itself. In hindsight, Edward realized that he didn't heed Jasper's warnings because he too frightened, too unsure as to what to do to fix everything.

"She sees and feels nothing but censure and disappointment from everyone, Edward." Jasper told me. "She sees the regret and remorse in your eyes whenever she fails to achieve perfection. And she interprets that as regret and remorse about _her_, that you regret changing her, loving her. I know that's not true, but she doesn't.

Think, Edward. She was once close with Emmett, but because it caused so many problems with Rosalie, he stays away from her. She in turn avoids most of the family to avoid Rosalie's hate and derision.

Bella's shield interfering with Alice's gift has created distance between them, so she not only feels like she's disappointed her best friend but has lost her. Hell, Edward," Jasper sighed. "That's all she feels is disappointment from others and inadequacy in herself. You need to do something, Edward. I don't know what, but you need to fix this because if you don't…if you don't fix this soon, I don't see her sticking around. That and I love her too much to see her hurting all the time."

Looking back, Edward wished he had listened then, heeded Jasper's words and advice. But he didn't. And instead, he pushed her into the arms of another man and had broken her heart even more.

Edward growled as he slowed for the red light creating another obstacle to reach her in time. As he sat and waited for what felt like an eternity for the light to change, he thought about how his life paralled this intersection, this traffic light. He could stop. He could go. He could turn or continue straight ahead on his path to Bella.

He thought about how if Bella would have stayed, he would have told her that he wasn't angry about the kiss. He would have told her that though it hurt him, he understood. Edward would've told Bella that he didn't think less of her, but actually thought less of himself. He would've told her that what hurt the most was that he hadn't fought hard enough against her walls, silence, and distance. He hadn't fought enough for them and he sure as hell hadn't fought hard enough for her.

Edward would've told her that his sorrow came from failing her. That the only person she felt safe enough with to seek solace, comfort, acceptance, support and love from was not her mate. No, she didn't find that in Edward, she found it in Jasper.

Edward would've have told her that it wasn't entirely her fault, that it was primarily his and his alone. He would've done anything to reassure her of his love and devotion.

But instead, she had fled. Consumed with guilt, embarrassment, and shame, Bella had fled as soon as she had realized what she had done. Before Jasper could stop her from running, she was gone. Jasper realized, and assured Edward, that Bella was not in love with him. No, all of her love was for Edward. She was confused, hurt, and reeling from yet another slip and had impulsively kissed Jasper out of gratitude more than anything else. She was overwhelmed by it all and had acted out in desperation for love, touch, and affection. But not because she was in love with Jasper, because while she does indeed love him, the love for a mate and the love of a cherished friend and confidant is not the same.

As the light turned green and Edward slowly approached the intersection, he realized that everything would change; it would have to if he wanted Bella. Not only would his relationship with Bella change, but also so would his relationships with his family.

Carlisle, Esme, and Emmett had been shocked when Jasper ran into the house and pushed Edward out the door, telling him what had happened and demanding he go after her. Rosalie called Bella a home-wrecking whore and used it as further ammunition against the girl she had always hated. Alice was worried, not for herself, but for Bella. Alice knew that Bella would never intentionally hurt anyone like that and was distraught for what her one-time best friend was going through.

The moment Edward realized that Bella was gone, he took off out of the house and after his love, only stopping to pay attention to the quick-fire visions wracking Alice's mind. _Edward chasing and catching Bella. Edward and Bella together. Bella laughing as she combed her fingers through Edward's wet, disheveled hair. _He realized that in all of the visions where he is able to save his marriage, save his mate, that they were separated from the family. He supposed that he should be shocked that his decision was so quick and easy, but he wasn't. He loved his family, but it didn't compare to what he felt for Bella—not a single bit. He felt his keys hit him in the back and turned around. Alice and Jasper were there. Wishing him well and wanting the best for them all knowing that they were saying goodbye for a long time to come…if Edward managed to catch Bella in time.

Edward came to the intersection and once again thought to himself that it wasn't supposed to end like this. No, it wasn't going to end like this.

He turned right at the traffic light and sped to the airport, bypassing every traffic law he had to in order to get to his mate, his Bella, in time. Because no, it wasn't supposed to end like this.

And it wouldn't.


	9. Straws, Camel Backs, and Dirty Bathrooms

_Prompt by Juliangelus: Toothpaste_

_Rating: T _

_Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer._

_A/N: Thank you all so much for all of your support, it means a lot to me. I'm having fun with this and can feel my confidence coming back, so hopefully I'll have something for Alter Bound and Preternatural Alliance very soon. :) _

_**Straws, Camel Backs, and Dirty Bathrooms**_

_I love my husband, I really, really do._

_He's always supportive, no matter what I know that Jasper will be there and will be my biggest fan. _

_ He knows when to hold my hand and when I just need to be alone. Better than that even, he never gets upset by the fact that I need more alone time than most people do. He's never insecure about it and never thinks it's a reflection of him or my feelings for him._

_Jasper accepts me for exactly who and what I am. _

_He is a fantastic lover. He's not selfish at all and never judges me on my kink. Not that he really could, he's just as twisted as I am. _

_He does most of the dishes because he knows I have an, albeit irrational, hatred of doing dishes. I even hate the dishwasher. He never complains because in turn, I do most of the cooking and shopping._

_Jasper surprises me with "just because presents" just so I know that he's always thinking about me. That and he's just super-sweet like that._

_I'm not always the easiest person to get along with, but he always loves me and supports me._

_I love my husband. With all my heart, I love him. He is the most wonderful man in the world and is so much more than I ever could have even thought to ask for in a friend, lover, and partner. _

_This is what I tell myself as I stare into the bathroom mirror, trying desperately not to loose my shit. He's wonderful, Bella….You love him, Bella….He puts up with a lot of crazy shit from you, Bella…I love him….Think of all of the wonderful things about him, the wonderful things he does just to make me happy…I lo-Gah! _

_I mean, how fucking hard is it to either A) Aim better or B) Wipe the foamy spittle off of the fucking mirror? And it's not like he isn't aware that he's doing it. We've talked about it like 500 times. _

_It's disgusting and just lazy. I mean, yeah. I understand that it happens when you're brushing your teeth, but it takes what? Thirty seconds to wipe it off the damn mirror? And it's not as though he's blind and can't see it RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. _

_Wait. Calm down, Bella, the rational, less crazy side of my mind whispers. This isn't worth an argument, just wipe it off and be done with it. _

_He's a wonderful man._

_I love him. _

_He's a wonderful man._

_I love him._

_As I tick off all of the sweet and loving things he does for me, I feel myself calm down. I realize that I'm being just a tad irrational and it isn't worth an argument. I can just wipe the mirror off and be done with it because he is a wonderful man and I love him. _

_Deep breaths, in and out. Slowly. Good._

_And I'm calm. I wipe the mirror down and resolve not to let this make me so angry._

_Until I see it. His dirty. Fucking. Underwear. Just laying on the bathroom tiles. __NEXT __to the fucking hamper. Something he knows I hate, something he knows drives me just a little fucking crazy, something he keeps saying that he won't fucking do anymore because the fucking hamper is right fucking next to his dirty fucking underwear and it takes like minimal fucking effort and maybe fifteen fucking seconds to pick them up and put them in the fucking hamper. I mean, really!._

_AUGH!_

_I lov—I'm gonna kill him!_


	10. And the lightning strikes

_**Prompt: Wearing flip-flops in the rain (Thank you Elle Leigh!)**_

_**AU, Non-canon, Un-beta'd**_

_**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer.**_

_**Rating: Oh, this one is a big, fat M**_

_**A/N: Thank you for all the reads, reviews, and alerts! Check out duskri123's and Elle Leigh's prompt stories, they are pretty cool chicks and write some good stuff too. **_

_**So oh my goodness, y'all, this little prompt that could has me freaked out a bit. I've never written anything lemony or citrusy before and lemme tell ya', it's hard! OMG, I just said hard…haha!**_

_**Anyway, I challenged myself to write a citrus zinger and then I wimped out and immediately berated myself back into it. For real, I think I wrote like four little stories for this prompt. So here you have it, my lemonade….God this is scary….I'm just gonna run and hide under my covers now…Eep!**_

* * *

Marcus leaned back against the rich brocade of the sofa, seemingly lost in novel resting his hands. He flipped the pages in a timely manner and didn't appear distracted…but he was and he hadn't read a single word in over an hour.

Instead, he watched _her_. He watched as she paced along the windows, appreciating the slight bounce of her breasts against the cotton of her tight, white tank top, the jiggle of her full, ripe ass, and the daintiness and feminine curve of her toes against the ridiculous green flip-flops she often wore in the comfort of their quarters. He watched and waited as her restlessness and agitation grew, knowing that the impending thunderstorm was wreaking havoc on her. In the beginning, he thought it was odd— the effect that rain, thunder, and lightning had on her—but now he eagerly…_anticipated_…how the violent skies seemed to release the unseen bonds she kept on her more carnal, more primitive nature.

As he listened to the first rolls of thunder rumble across the rapidly darkening sky, his eyes flashed to her…watching…waiting…not missing a single movement she made, knowing that the hunt would soon begin.

She was a beautiful study of contradictions, his Bella. She was fierce and demure. She was his strong, independent equal and his little girl in need of guidance, reassurance…and at times a little discipline.

Lightning cracked the sky and Marcus watched for the telltale signs, impatient for his hunt to begin.

The stormy clouds finally opened and Bella's dark, hungry eyes flashed to his as the rain began to pour.

It was time.

Marcus watched her carefully as she warred within herself, her wants and desires in conflict with the mores, values, and social norms that she was raised to believe. Bella's notions of independence and fierce femininity were in direct conflict with this…this desire…this _need_ she had…to be dominated, possessed by him and only him. Bella didn't want this with any other man, only _her _Marcus.

He rose slowly, sinuously from the sofa, and approached her gently, as though she was a frightened animal…and in many ways, she was.

Marcus towered over her, staring deeply into her eyes, as he pressed her flush against the wall. "Bella," he whispered, his lips and tongue brushing against the rim of her ear. "Oh my Isabella, whatever am I to do with you?"

"I-I," she stuttered as his teeth lightly scraped along the length of her graceful neck. Her back arched and he could feel the subtle roll of her hips, urging him on, her body encouraging him to _take _her. Marcus pressed his hips against her, relishing the contact, rolling his erection into the softness of her body. She responded, as he knew she would, whimpering and stretching against him, like a cat in heat.

"Marcus," she moaned, low and husky, spurring him on as he dug his fingers into her hips, easily manhandling her body. Her pulled her to him and drug her down the hall to the French doors, his fingers almost painfully gripping her fleshy hips. Marcus spun her around and pressed her against the glass, burying his face in her wild, dark curls, his hips flexing against the round globes of her pert ass.

He could feel her pant and shudder against him, giving way to her darker desires, knowing that her eyes were fixated on the lightning flashing across the sky and the torrential downpour muddying the gardens outside of their quarters.

"You like it when I chase you, don't you, Bella?" Marcus purred as he gripped her hair tightly in his hand and yanked it roughly, exposing her neck to him…his free hand dipping underneath her shorts and into her cotton panties. He cupped her wet sex possessively, because it—_she_—was _his_, and pulled her closer to him, grinding his throbbing cock against her. "You like when I hunt you."

"Yes!" Bella cried out, shivering and panting as his fingers teased her clit and his teeth scraped along her neck. Marcus growled, abruptly removing his hand from her swollen sex to open the door she pressed against.

"Marcus, please!" She moaned as he walked them both out into the storm, the rain quickly darkening her hair and making her slide just a bit in her flimsy flip-fops.

"Well then," Marcus whispered in her ear. "Run for me, my love, my darling mate."


	11. So Damn Beautiful

**_Prompt by duskri123. Pic prompt. I created a Pinterest board for the series: Breaking the Block. I can be found on Pinterest under dcurley1 fan fiction. /alterbound/breaking-the-block/_**

**____****AU, Non-canon, Un-beta'd**

**_Rating: T_**

**_Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer._**

**____****A/N: Thank you for all the reads, reviews, and alerts! Check out duskri123's and Elle Leigh's prompt stories, they are pretty cool chicks and write some good stuff too.**

* * *

She was just so damn beautiful.

Her trust and faith in him. Her love, _God_, the power of her love scorched him. Burned him. Revitalized him. She made him new and worthy. He felt like a phoenix with her, reborn in the embers and flames of her love.

She was just too damn beautiful.

The way she loved his body. Gentle strokes and possessive grabs. He was _hers_ and he loved her so damn much for that. Warm, soft kisses. The drag of her teeth across his hypersensitive skinskin he'd always been so damn ashamed of, skin that had riddled him with insecurity. Skin that she _loved_, that she laved with her tongue and her pillowy mouth.

She was just too, too beautiful.

The way her back arched when he touched her. Her sighs and moans. Whimpers and please, please, please _more. "Jasper, Jasper, Jasper…" _ she would cry out for him, always wanting more of _him_. HIM. Not another, only him. It both stunned and invigorated him.

She was just so, so _good _to him.

The way she cared. The way her eyes and body always sought him out. The pure adoration in her once chocolate eyes, now red though no less beautiful than before. The way she always needed to be near him, always touching him—public displays of her love and affection be damned. He was hers and she was his.

She was just…just…_everything…_


	12. Girls Who Love Boys Who Love Boys

**Prompt: Picking up the pieces (Thank you Elle Leigh!)**

**Rating: M, to be on the safe side because a few adult things are referenced.**

**AU, Non-canon, Un-beta'd**

**Check out duskri123's and elle leigh's side of the prompts too! They are some awesome ladies with mad talent. **

**Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer.**

* * *

It had not been a good few years for Bella Swan.

Between her cheating bastard of a, now ex, fiance, losing her job, having to move back in with her parents, and her dismal social life...well, Bella's life sucked. She hadn't had sex in over two years and could not recall the last time she had experienced an orgasm that wasn't self-induced...and sometimes she wondered if she had ever had.

But she had handled it all with grace, well, for the most part. She'd found another job and was moving out of her parents house soon, thank Bob. And though it was an unconventional relationship, she found dedication and love with her electric toothbrush...and it gave her the most intense orgasms of her life in less than 60 seconds. Bella honestly couldn't think of anything much better than that.

Well, she could think of something better than that but she wouldn't. Because ultimately she couldn't.

She met him as she waited in the pouring rain for a tow-truck. She was sobbing and screaming and just a hot mess in general. It had all just gotten to be too much for Bella and she was finally cracking. But when a black pickup truck pulled over to help her, her entire life changed.

She was rescued by an angel that day. A beautiful, sweet angel. He even looked like one. Blonde curls, dimples, and classic features.

Bella quickly fell in love with Jasper.

He was kind, handsome, and enjoyed her campy, quirky personality.

He loved to cuddle and snuggle and kiss.

He was supportive and loved to eat and his bitchy sense of humor never failed to make her smile.

Jasper loved Bella, too. He loved her so very much. Problem was, he loved Peter more.

And vaginas scared him.

No matter, Bella loved him and loved Peter and they loved her in return...even though they worried about her.

She was their heterosexual life partner. They helped pick her up, dust her off, and push her out there. Peter helped her find a new, and better, job. Jasper got her out of her ratty sweatpants and they both staged an intervention when her fan-fiction addition got completely out of control.

They tried to get her to date, but that never really worked out...because Jasper and Peter had the worse gaydar in the world and every man they set her up with turned out to be gay. Frankly, Bella didn't care. By now she had many friends and so many people that she loved and loved her just as much in return. They all just happened to be gay. She was perfectly okay with being a girl who loved boys who loved boys.

Since her boys, and lady-boys, came into her life, everything was so much better. She shone and grew and was radiant in their care.

And if Jasper couldn't love her the same way she loved him, that was okay. She still had him...and her electric toothbrush satisfied her better than any many had in the past anyway.


	13. Rock Superstar

Prompt by duskri123: A concert

Rating: T

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. The Twilight Saga and all characters, recognizable settings, etc. involved within are the property of Stephenie Meyer.

A/N: Thank you all so much for all of your support, it means a lot to me. I'm having fun with this and I think duskri123 and Elle Leigh are too.

* * *

**Bella's Kinda' Bitchy POV**

God, they're awful.

I mean really, really, _really_ bad.

But Jasper is so into this. This whole..._band_ thing...even though they suck...like a lot...

And since I'm so into _him_, and he's so into this _band_, and I want to be a good girlfriend...

I'll sit here in this smelly shed.

And listen to the boys "compose" and Edward's vocals.

I mean, I get that they're trying to go for that whole grunge thing, but for real? Edward sounds like a really bad imitation of Christian Bale as Batman and Emmett couldn't keep a beat keep if someone was pounding it out on top of his big head.

And Jasper, my prettyful, prettyful Jasper...I get the rock thing and my boy has such talent...but I swear to Bob...stinky, greasy, tangled hair is not sexy—it's gross and does not inspire my panties to stay anywhere but snugly around my waist.


End file.
